


I Wanna Be Yours

by satanic_panic



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24270424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satanic_panic/pseuds/satanic_panic
Summary: Whiskey comes to see you one night, and things take quite the dramatic turn.
Relationships: Jack | Whiskey/Reader
Kudos: 17





	I Wanna Be Yours

You had always had a little crush on Whiskey, a little inkling of a romantic attraction towards him, a little yearning to be his, but as much as you wanted to, you knew you could never tell him about it; you knew he would never look at you in any other way except as a friend, you knew that he wouldn't want you and yearn for you the way that you wanted him and yearned for him, you knew that Whiskey would never be yours and would never want you to be his.

It was getting late, around eight or nine o'clock at night, and you were lonely and desperate for contact, there was no whiskey or rum in the cupboards to drink, and there was nothing on the television that could capture your attention enough and draw your thoughts away from Whiskey. You couldn't stop thinking about him, his touch, his smile, his deep dark brown eyes, his voice and everything else from the stupid cowboy hat he wore, to his flirtatious comments that made you roll your eyes but secretly think about if they were a little more serious than he intended.

The opening of the front door caught your attention, and you sat up, clutching your phone and ready to call Whiskey and tell him you were in trouble, when the devil himself walked through the door, holding up a plastic bag that stank of takeaway.

"I figured I'd drop by," he explained with a smile, closing the door with his foot before joining you in the living room. "I got your favourite."

You relaxed, accepting the bag when he handed it to you and inspecting it - he really did get your favourite, and by the label on the container, it was from your favourite place, too - but you soon smiled. "You really remembered to get it from my favourite chippie, too..."

"Well, yeah," Whiskey shrugged, laying an arm across the back of the sofa, almost close enough to touch you but still so far away. "Why wouldn't I remember somethin' like that?"

The words made your smile grow as you pulled the coffee table over and set the container down. "I'm gonna go grab a knife and fork... we haven't got any Jameson or Grant's, or Captain Morgan's, but we have coffee?"

He chuckled softly, nodding and licking his lips, looking you up and down and biting the inside of your lip; fuck, Whiskey thought you were amazing. Every inch of you was like an artist's masterpiece to him, and he couldn't help but to stare at your backside when you left the room. He had to tell you, tell you how he craved you and pined for you and yearned for you. He had to, and when you returned with a cup of coffee and a knife and fork, he cleared his throat.

"Can I tell you somethin'?"

Shoving a forkful of food into your mouth, you nodded, voice muffled by your full mouth. "Sure... what's up?"

Even with a mouthful of takeaway, you still looked so brilliant to him, and he swallowed thickly. "You ever think about, I dunno, gettin' more serious than just friends?"

You swallowed thickly and harshly, almost choking and gagging, but you somehow managed to keep your cool as you let out a shaky breath and cleared your throat. "Uh... some... sometimes, yeah... why?"

"You're hot," Whiskey told you with a certain stunning seriousness. "Not only that, but you're amazing, and the best damn friend I've ever had, but... fuck, I want you so bad, (y/n), and I don't just mean for a quick fuck, I mean I want you to be mine."

You set your fork down, coughing in a vague attempt to calm your nerves and steel your foolish heart. "Whiskey, I... I don't know what to say, I mean... shit, I feel the same but... you can't be serious. You don't want me. You... you deserve someone better."

"I don't goddamn care what I deserve," he defended. "(y/n), if you wanna be mine, and if I can be yours, then sugar, that's all I need to hear."

"I wanna be yours, Whiskey," you said quietly. "More than anything."


End file.
